


Forever

by crimsonadvent



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet, Dalish, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:04:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2816504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does forever mean? She couldn't determine it until she felt his arms and she tasted his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunrise

And she can never understand what drew her to him. Was it the knowledge he could share with her? Was it his uncanny ability to be at par with her when it comes to their social banters? Or was it because he’s so damn smooth on flirting?

Yvellna couldn’t tell when it started but she knew she was in too deep.

\---

She was appalled. She didn’t expect to encounter an elf who thought poorly of the Dales. Surely there were some but to have someone outright insult her people; she would have none of it.

Yvellna’s blood boiled and she was sourly tempted to smack the sarcasm off of him. This outrageous man!

”Would you like to plant a tree to commemorate the liberation of the elves?” He spoke in a mocking tone. His grip on his staff signaled her of his growing annoyance.

With a huff, the young elvhen squared her shoulders. Her quiver brushed against her shoulder blade while her right hand gripped her bow so hard. She was pretty sure her knuckles were white due to her restraint.

She could see the smug loo plastered on the apostate and she was determined to wipe it off but of course she didn’t want to.

The young elf released a sigh and evaluated the individual in front of her. _Relax, vel, this Is someone you’ll be working with until the rift in the sky is closed._

“Thank you but I’ll have to pass on that. I’m sure there are more than enough trees to commemorate that event.” She spoke evenly and she could see the hint of surprise her answer bore. He probably expected her to retaliate so brazenly.

He cleared his throat and straightened his bearings, he had been expecting the redhead to bite the bait but he had to appraise her for her constraint. “My, I was wrong about you.” His eyes shone with an odd hint of amusement which made the archer feel like she was a little toy in his eyes.

Oh boy, here’s an adventure with this man.

..

“Look out!” She cried and pulled him aside in the middle of his casting. He threw a snide look at her and she immediately released him, burned by the intensity of his gaze.

“What are you doing!?” He cried at her. The sounds of the dragon’s roar and Cassandra’s battle cries were drowned out in his fury. The marked elvhen glared at him and notched an arrow to her bow.

“Well, you’re welcome. If I didn’t pull you out, you’d be a burning pile of ancient elvhen ashes.” She grumbled and shot her arrow to the exposed hide. It unleashed a cry of pain and shot a fireball towards her. She can’t outrun that.

She braced herself for the burning sensation of the dragon’s attack but it never came. Peeking one gray eye open she found the cool blue barrier shielding her. She swept her gaze to the side where the mage poised with his staff hand extended.

At that moment, she could only think how beautiful he was.

“Are you all right, Inquisitor?” Cassandra cried out and she recovered from her stupor. Quickly she notched another arrow and it sailed low into the wounded front leg.

“Nice shot, Boss!” Iron bull’s approving comment rose the adrenaline in her veins. Or maybe it was this odd exhilarating feeling of being saved.

She kept her gray gaze at the huge beast that she missed out the smirk that plastered on the elvhen mage’s face.

…

Yvellna cursed lowly as her finger caught on a thorn while she harvested some Witherstalk. She quickly took the bleeding digit and plunged it into her mouth. She grimaced at the strong taste of iron but lapped on the blood. She took the finger out but it was still beading with blood.

Before she could lap up the blood, someone grabbed hold of her wrist. She half expected Cassandra to scold her for her unhygienic appraisal of the wound but of course it had not been her favorite seeker but the ever annoyed looking elvhen mage Solas. He eyed the wound as the blood trickled down her finger.

“You’re not mending the wound, Inquisitor.” His voice spoke and with a surge of his magic, the wound knitted close. It was any ordinary healing magic but it caught her off guard. He held an indecipherable look on his face as he healed the injury. She couldn’t help but be drawn to the distant look of his dark blue eyes. True, Yvellna dislike him for his unappealing first impression but Solas was more than that.

“T-Thank you.” She stuttered and he released her wrist and walked away. She gathered the fallen leaves of the Witherstalk and kept them in her pouch. She ran her eyes along the terrain, satisfied that she had her fill of the herbs before making her way back to her party.

She found him talking to Cassandra about her position. She could not help the odd sense of pain that clawed inside her when he complimented of her title. Maybe, she’s just thinking things or it was the wound’s phantom pain. She shook the thought away, it was useless dwelling on negative thoughts.

 “You all right, Boss? That looked like some nasty cut you had earlier.” Bull spoke to her and she couldn’t help but grumble at having to change her attention. “Yeah, it was.” She wiped off the traces of blood on her tunic, smearing the olive green drab with a dark red.

The soft cadence of his magic still coursed in her veins.

She underestimated him; she thought he was not the type to care but then she didn’t know him too well. Aside from their occasional trek from Hinterlands and getting through the desert, she only knew him as the elvhen mage who was quite fond of the Fade. The one who had helped her mend the temporary rifts in Fereldan. In truth, she was grateful for his help, for him.

“Let’s get things over with, I can’t bear this heat.” She complained as Iron Bull laughed at her antics. She needed an excuse to hide the flush on her cheeks.


	2. Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yvellna realizes a budding infatuation with Solas.

She couldn't stomach the amount of pain that rushed her as she saw him, caged with the toxic red lyrium. It clung to him like a second skin. He looked crazed and unwell. She would have lost her mind if she were in his shoes.

“You’re alive. We saw you die!” His astonished cry broke her sorrowful thoughts. He moved out of the prison, the odd red energy permeated from him. His eyes appraised her, once they were a deep blue now they were an angry red. Tainted, no longer could they see the truth.

She’d zone out his words, maybe out of shock? Maybe out of remorse? She didn’t expect that a year without her could cause this much chaos.

“We can’t do this without you.” She spoke, her voice thick with emotion and he let out a small smile. “If there is any hope, any way to save them… my life is yours.” And her heart had been sealed, his words had claimed her.

_My life is yours._

Those four words echoed in her mind as she let her arrows fly towards her enemies, piercing through armor, flesh and muscle. She could hear his baritone voice with a wicked echo shouting his spells as if a comfort from the looming end they were about the face. She pulled her bowstring a little farther, aimed a little higher just to reassure herself they will survive.

a little farther, aimed a little higher just to reassure herself they will survive.

But no, not even the false comfort she kept repeating like a prayer in her head could steel her from the inevitable. They may have defeated Alexius but the shaking walls spoke of an even greater foe.

The wailing cries raised the hairs on her flesh as the crumbling ceiling dropped debris. “You cannot stay here!” Solas’s adamant cry shot panic in her veins. They had to leave but an hour was quite a stretch.

Cassandra turned to the elvhen and they nodded, an unspoken pact between two different individuals. “We’ll hold out the door.  When they get pass us, it will be your turn.” He said it with such finality that it broke her heart. “No, there must be something else we can do!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Look at us. We’re already dead. The only way we live is if this day never comes.” Leliana spoke with reason and while she may not want to hear it, it was the truth. Before Yvellna could spout anymore, her two comrades made their way out.

Her heart tore up, seeing them leave. Was this really the solution? Her eyes fixated on the wide shoulders of the apostate and he glanced back at her. Was that apology? Or melancholy on his eyes? She couldn’t tell for he turned back away from her.

She wanted to rush to their aid so many times but doing so would break the spell. It tore her as she saw Cassandra flung away from the open path. The seeker’s body bounced on the floor but did not rise. Her eyes blurred with tears as Solas own body was flung away. He did not stand up either.

The spell was complete and the strong pull of energy drew her back but it didn’t stop the tears rushing down her cheeks as she saw Leliana die. She didn’t want this future and she would do everything that she could to prevent it from happening.

The trip to Haven was silent as both she and Dorian did not speak of what happened in the future. It was too vivid, much too painful. Her eyes focused on familiar wide shoulders, how it tore her to see him die.

She didn’t notice that she had stopped walking as she stared at him.

“Something the matter, Inquisitor?” His voice brought her out of her thoughts. She looked at him, his back to her but his amused eyes looking at her. She could feel warmth rushing to her cheeks as she ran to them.

“Nothing. Everything is fine, Solas. Everything is fine now.”

Yes, she’d rather have this. _Please look back at me, Solas._

….

Pain coursed in her body as she bled through the snow. Corypheus was none too kind in dealing with her. She coughed out a little more blood and they dripped unto the white terrain, painting them with crimson.

She limped along the path, not knowing where to go. The blizzard was hardly helping her as she felt her body being buffeted by the wind. She wondered if they survived, if they were able to make it out safely.

Yvellna could not lose count of the people who perished in front of her, she could not save everyone and it weighed heavily on her conscience. For now, forward was the only direction she could go.

She tried to turn back but surely there was nothing but a graveyard and broken promises waiting back in Haven. Her feet trudged o the thick snow, she didn’t even notice how high it had piled up but she just pressed on.

Her arms felt frozen and her lungs tried to pump in what little oxygen they could muster. Black spots dotted her vision but she didn’t stop.

Even if she didn’t know where she was going, there was an odd pull that made her continue onwards. Maybe she was desperately walking towards her salvation? Oh sweet Arlathan, she could only dream of paradise.

The tall trees swayed to the strong winds, chilling her right to the bone. The howls of wolves filled the air as if a testament to her end. She tried to steel herself; the wolves will not take her down so easily. Weakened as she was, she’ll never go down without a fight.  She walked on the snowy terrain as the howling continued, composing a grim melody bespoken of death and loss.

Would she die here? She couldn’t say for certain. Shivers ran down her body, making her shake too much.

The winds died down now and she found a spit and it looked quite recent however no one was around.  Large stone walls stood all around her, her world spun but she kept one foot forward. One foot at a time.

She tried to get her bearings straight but it was too much, the cold ground looked too inviting. From a distance she could see light, was that them? She was flooded with relief and no sooner her body lost its balance and she collapsed onto the plush snow, painting it a faint red.

”There! It’s her!” She heard Cullen’s cry and Cassandra’s voice followed suit. No sooner darkness took her and she prayed to the elven gods to make her strong.

-

She felt warm, gentle hands trailing over her face. The coldness seeped out of her and in its place familiar warmth that made her feel safe. She tried to piece things out but her mind was muddled.

She forced her tired eyes open and beheld the sight in front of her. It was Solas.

His hands danced over her skin, ghosted upon her wounds. A calming green light envelope his fingers as they touched her injuries away. She tried to sit up but his hand pushed her down, “You’re not well enough.  Lie down, _da’len.”_

At any given time she might have flustered up at his odd choice of nickname but for now his warm hands and his soothing baritone voice, chanting healing spells ,was enough to lull her back into a dreamless slumber. Maybe that was part of his magic too, to erase the pain she experienced hours ago.

And maybe that was indeed his plan as Solas gazed down at her serene face. If only for a while, he could take the burden for a few hours. That was a little respite he could offer her.

…..

Skyhold. It was a surreal castle up in the sky. She didn’t think that they would have a chance to rebuild from what Corypheus had done but Solas did. She brought him back up from being so low. She had given her wings to help her soar back up the sky.

At first, she didn’t expect the elvhen to have such a big impact in her life. Oh how wrong she was, for each step she took, he was right behind her. At first, she felt that he was the unnecessary shadow stalking her but now she didn’t feel that way. It was almost like, he was the shadow to make sure she was stepping the right steps.

But how could she explain to herself why she felt nervous in front of the door leading to the rotunda. She cast a sideway look at Varric who was looking at her, he had a smug look plastered to his face. She swallowed the rising bile and tried to ignore the burning of her cheeks as she pushed the door open.

The musty smell of dust assaulted her nostrils and she wrinkled in annoyance. She made her way along the small hallway and found the mage looking at the bare walls.

“Hello.” He greeted and the warm feeling inside her resurfaced. She couldn’t understand this emotion. It was quite foreign. “Good day Solas.” She spoke in response, glad to hear that her voice sounded even.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” He asked, a bit unsure at her visit. She fidgeted a bit and responded, “I’d like to get to know more about you Solas.”

The surprise etched on his face was priceless. “You continue to surprise me.  All right, let us talk. Preferably somewhere more interesting than this.”

She couldn’t remember what happened but the next thing her eyes opened they were in Haven. Why Haven? And what odd sense of comfort did it bring her being here? Maybe because this was where she felt home after so long.

They made their way towards where she had been kept, unconscious during the time the mark had embedded into her palm.

“I sat beside you while you slept.” He confessed; a little tinge of pink on his cheeks. She felt happy, to have someone taking care of her in the darkness of these times.

Indeed, how could she defend him? She had been unconscious and he was branded an apostate. He could have been killed for being there but he didn’t flee. He stayed and for that she was grateful. That one last chance meant everything to her and secretly to him.

“And right then, I thought the whole world change.” He spoke, his voice thick with emotion. His words rung in her mind, painting her cheeks more scarlet than she ever remembered. Gods, she never felt like this before.

“You felt the whole world change…?”

“A figure of speech.” His smile was charming, resolute. She couldn’t help the butterflies brushing in her belly.

“I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt.” She spoke with such confidence however in her mind, Yvellna was bashing herself. She could never speak such emotions brazenly, more so to an elvhen she held in high regard.

“You changed…everything.” He exhaled those words, as if he had been holding them back. Cool blue eyes regarded her, piercing into her soul; searching for an answer to a mysterious puzzle. And maybe she was a puzzle, a distinctive piece in the mystery of the Breach.

“Sweet talker.” She mumbled and  looked upon the snowy ground. She thought of his words, their meanings and without any coherent thought she pulled her to him. Her lips upon his. The warmth, the intoxicating feeling of kissing him. Ah, it filled her mind.

_No, it shouldn’t be like this._

And she pulled back, unsure, not wanting to impose herself on him. It pained her to pull away and her face masked how her heart ached to be near him. What she didn’t expect however was for him to pull her back.

His lips upon hers, warm. He tasted of spice, and of something that was entirely unique to him, eliciting a sigh from her. His scent assaulted her but it was calming, a heady scent of crushed Elfroot and cinnamon. An odd mixture but it suited him. His arms wove around her and she fell upon his lean frame. He drank from her, tasted her as eagerly, and lavished her with his passionate kisses.

And they pulled back but no, no, something was missing. Solas crashed his own lips yet again, drinking in more of her and lavishing her lips. She tasted like wine and he drank her in, like water to a parched man in the desert.

And at that moment Lavellan knew he had truly held her heart. She couldn’t see it before but now it was so bright, so glaring. She was enamored by him, the first one to tug at her heartstrings.

Would it be selfish to wish this to last forever? She never knew spice could taste so divine.

_If this is forever, then please don’t let go for I have never tasted such a taste as your lips upon mine._


	3. Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took a while to update this story. I actually had a chapter three but it sounded too off so I had to trash it and waited for my muse to help me out on this one. I hope this is all right.
> 
> I spun the second romance/kiss scene a bit since it sounded a bit off when I tried to write it as it is. I do hope it's all right.

_She could remember how the green, acrid gas coiled around her. The wisps that spoke of death and demise, she could taste it in her tongue._

_The skittering approach of huge spiders and creatures that nightmares plague, they were nearing her. She tried to put as much distance from them while reaching to the figure swath in white. Its hand outstretched to her, as if her salvation._

_She remembered taking it and pain ravaging her body._

Yvellna bolted awake from her pallet as the mark on her hand pulsated with an ominous green light. The anchor ebbed with a familiar pain and she was sure that she would not be getting any sleep tonight.

The elvhen massaged her temples before throwing the blanket off of her. Gray eyes appraised Cassandra’s sleeping form before she made her way out of the tent, bow and arrow in hand.

The cool night air was refreshing on her heated flesh as the sound of sleeping trees a comfort to her sanity. She took a twig and stoked the embers, rekindling the dying flames in the spit.

“Trouble sleeping, Inquisitor?” A sudden voice broke her concentration and she jumped at the intruder with an arrow notched towards them.

Gray eyes found the passive figure of Solas. She relaxed her stance and plopped herself on the wooden seat around the spit. “You surprised me, Solas.” He chuckled and made his way towards her, “I apologize for the intrusion, _lethallan_.”

She eyed him with interest and stoked the fire a little more, appreciating the glow of the roaring flames. He sat down a seat adjacent to hers and she was surprised at his closeness. This wasn’t really the closest two people could be but Solas had drew the line to their intimacies in public, this display was a bit surprising.

“It’s odd to find you up at this time.” She told him and he nodded. “I agree. I’d certainly be exploring the Fade at this time.” He mused, an odd smile plastered on his features and it drew her in, “But a distant cry rang in the fade. The veil pulled and a green trail appeared and it led me towards you.”

A strong blush painted her cheeks pink and she chuckled at his words. Oh, he was smooth. She appraised the mark branded on her palm; it pulsed with the green glow of the fade. “I…I remembered the time I was branded with the anchor.”

“Oh? You’ve got me interested.” His tone was hopeful, as if something in my memories could shed some light to this mystery. He scooted closer and his calloused hands took hold of mine. Slender fingers probed at the mark, feeling the hum of magic under his ministrations.

“Continue.” He commanded, his blue eyes studying her hand as his touch sent shivers down her spine. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and commanded the blush to recede. She looked everywhere except him.

“I remember green mists surrounding me and the sight of huge spiders. Undead? There were a numerous beings in the Fade.” She tried to dig up more from her memory, “I remember a white figure standing high at a summit. I could tell it was a woman.” She hissed when he poked the mark.

“My apologies.” He murmured and sat back; stopping his ministrations but his hands still cradled hers. Yvellna tried not to think about it but she couldn’t help how his touch sent butterflies brushing in her belly.

“Tell me more, Lethallan. Maybe your memory can answer this mystery in your hand.” She was a bit disappointed but did not let it on. “I believe it was Mother Justinia. After all I was sent to spy on the conclave. She reached out to me and I to her. When I came to, I was in a cell surrounded by shemlen.”

She turned her gaze to him and looked thoughtful, “What were you like before the anchor? Has it affected you? Changed you in any way?”

“No. I don’t believe so. Should it have changed me?” She asked him, a little incredulous that a trip to the fade could turn her for worse.

He chuckled at her reaction, ah that sweet laughter. “It must sound preposterous to ask this of you.”

“It’s an odd question, yes, but you know more of Fade than I do Solas. Please don’t take my reaction against you. I’m just surprised you asked, why is that?”

“None taken, _lethallan._ ” If she looked closer there was mirth in his eyes, was she truly that amusing? “You have a wisdom I have not seen since my deepest journeys in the ancient memories of the Fade. You are…not what I expected.”

“I don’t believe I am worth the merit.” She blushed at his words, she never found herself so radiating as she believed. “I’m like any Dalish elf. Your words are lost on me.”

He gently settled her hand on her lap and stood up, pacing around the spit. The warm light of the fire accented his cheeks, painting him in a light she never knew she could see. He was breathtaking.

“If the Dalish could raise someone like you then I give them much poor credit.” His back was to her, his hands clasped in her view. He had taken the stance of a _hahren._

“Dalish, true but they didn’t make me like this. The decisions were mine.” She responded, a little hurt that he had thought her clan had shaped her entirely. She was the rebel as her Keeper had called her. Her skill was worth mentioning but her attitude? She’d been told of her spirited nature a countless number of times.

He looked at her over his shoulder and tried to re-evaluate his words, “You are right to give yourself that view. The Dalish may have guided you.”

“The Dalish has helped me but my words, my actions, sometimes they have not always been praised in their eyes.” She mused, remembering found memories of her adolescence, “I always was a rebel.”

At that word, he smiled at her. _Rebel._ She’d never known how closely he had been associated with such a term.

“Now, tell me more of your story.” His tone was commanding but Yvellna didn’t mind. She was more than happy to oblige.

…….

She sat behind the desk that Josie had provided, sifting through a mountain of papers and reports. Who knew being an Inquisitor had this kind of pompous responsibilities? The archer pinched the bridge of her nose, secretly praying that everyone was following the Qun to diminish her volume of paperwork. It was a comforting thought but of course, he was the inquisitor now and she had to deal with Thedas’ concerns.

The quill in her hand felt foreign. For a Dalish it was uncommon to use shemlen materials. She would always prefer the feel of her fingers with the ink but then she would be called a savage and it would ruin the image of the Inquisition.

Gray eyes were busy sifting information on the document about a party for the celebration of their first dragon slain. She wasn’t the type to be frivolous; she’d have Josie look into this. She scrawled on the parchment and stamped it with wax. Once satisfied with her work, she placed the paper to the smaller pile.

The door to the chambers opened but she didn’t tear her eyes from the document about looking for an arcanist. They badly needed one.

“Inquisitor?” A cool voice made her jump. She had been sorely expecting Josie.

“Oh, Solas. I didn’t expect you.” She was flustered as blue eyes filled with mirth looked at her. She must be sight to behold, with her auburn hair sticking everywhere and tired gray eyes.

“I was merely checking on you. Everyone has told me you’ve been locked in this room for quite some time.” He spoke evenly and she sighed, leaning on the plush covering of her seat. She had indeed missed out on some meals due to the work load.

“Might I have some of your time?” He asked with a certain confidence in his words.

She pushed herself from her seat and walked towards him, “Your presence is a welcome distraction to this abomination.” She waved at the amount of paperwork and he chuckled.

“I am pleased that you say so.” And he guided her out of the stifling room. She was much surprised to have him lead her back to her quarters. She did a double-take when Solas himself had opened the door to her. It was her room, for gods’ sake.

“Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk in private?” She broke the silence, a little nervous at the possible implications this private talk would bring them.

“Are you truly sure the anchor has not changed you?” He did not waste time as he stepped into the warm light of the balcony. She arched a brow in confusion but followed him. Hadn’t they talked about this already?

“I’m sure there’s nothing different with me now and before.” She leaned on the railing, “Is there something bothering you Solas?”

“No, not truly. It’s-” He was stumbling on some words, sifting through the thoughts that he was willing to tell me. “Perhaps that’s it. Most people have so little understanding of the world but not you.”

A look of confusion crossed her features, “So what does this mean Solas?”

He smiled, his features lightened and this time, his words were true, “It means I have not forgotten the kiss.”

Rouge splashed on her cheeks as she replayed his words in her mind. She averted her eyes to stifle the emotions bubbling inside her. A smile lightened her visage and she tucked both her hands behind her.

She made her way beside him and looked up to his eyes. She swallowed the butterflies, “Neither have I.”

They both stood quiet. Not sure how to make do with the development but Solas shook his head. As if a haze had cleared he made his way towards the room but her hand grasped his.

“Wait.”

“It would be kinder in the long run.” He told her with much conviction, “But losing you would-”

She didn’t notice when he had done it. She could only remember the feel of his warm lips on hers, peppered with that intoxicating spice that only he possessed. His scent was soothing to her frayed nerves, gods this was the best distraction.

His hands were upon her hips while his kisses were light, almost frantic; as if looking for some reassurance. She clung to him, her small fists wearing at his tunic while his arms encircled her; caging her, as if she was a fleeting spirit pulling her small frame to his.

His kisses become heated, wanting, tasting her. His tongue asked for entrance and she obliged. He savored her, the taste of honey never been so delectable to his palate. He drank from her, the very essence that he craved.

She was dizzy with his kisses and the heady scent of his arousal. She could feel the heat rush through her all the way to her toes. His fingers trailed down her back, leaving fire on her skin. An aching pooling in her center and she knew she had caught fire.

Ah, he was intoxicating.

He unwound his arms from her body and settled them at his side but their lips were still in a tight battle. He ravished her mouth, drank from her as if she was water to a parched man in the dessert; and she could not help but be drunk with his passion.

All too soon, his lips left hers but his eyes found her gaze. “ _Ar’lath, ma vhenan._ ” He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and made his way out.

And she knew things would be different from now on.

……..

She was breathtaking. That had to be an understatement but Yvellna hated the dress she was wearing and cursed at the shemlen’s for their excess on grandeur.

How can one walk in these tight fitting clothing? Or even these tall shoes? Their definition of beauty was warped and she wished she could be back in her loose tunic and barefooted.

But of course, being Inquisitor, you could not choose how you dress especially when you’re trying to warm up to the nobility of the Orlesian empire.

So here she was, looking at her reflection on the full length mirror provided for the occasion. He auburn hair was teased and curled with a string of pearls braided into her locks. Josie had applied rouge to her cheeks and dolled up her eyes with dark blue hues.  The make-up hid the scars on her cheeks making her flawless. It was awkward to wear this make-up for she had to wear a mask.

Her dress for the evening was nothing short of a beauty. It was an off shoulder dress with her skirt a nice round fall from her hips. Her shoulders were swathed with a sheer silver lace, highlighting her fair elvhen skin and her slender neck. Her bodice was made of silver brocade with primroses sewn as patterns. It glints gold in the light. A dark silver corset framed her abdomen, sewn with blue threads in the form of vines. Her skirt was lined with royal blue vines that snaked top to bottom with buds on some stems.

Josie had procured a dazzling silver necklace with a big cut of sapphire dangling by the chain. It adorned her neck, heavy and cold to her skin. The Orlesian noblewoman dusted some gold on her shoulders, making her skin more tantalizing under the candlelight. Her long ears were adorned with finery, small silver studs that made her presence more elvhen.

Lastly, her custom-made mask was placed on her painted face. It was a midnight blue which contrasted with her hair but that was the plan. She wanted their eyes on her head, as if to put some emphasis that this woman would not take your eyes elsewhere. They were edge with precious jewels that twinkled blue and white. Feathers were glued to one side while silver chains dangled down it. Small twisted horns of white protruded from her mask, as if a Halla.

She was like the moon with her face hidden by the night but her gray eyes would shine beneath the mask like a prize jewel. _She was ready._

The moment she stepped into the ballroom, all eyes were on her. Not on her partner but her, the esteemed female elvhen inquisitor. Whispers erupted from the onlookers as she danced with her escort’s sister. She had been bereft when she was forced to stay in the entire duration of the party while her companions did the dirty work. She didn’t like it; she’d rather be bathed in blood than in the outrageous layers of silk and gold.

She didn’t even have the full satisfaction to fighting Florianne in her gown. She’d been careful not to get any tears nor have splotches of blood on it. It was a miracle that she made out of the fight unscathed but she had to thank her companions who were all too keen at the image their Inquisitor was promoting.

She deserved a moment of respite. Talking with Morrigan helped but the weight of the entire night finally caught up to her and she could use some fresh air, alone. She fiddled with her extravagant mask, letting her fingers run along the jewels.

“I’m not surprised to find you out here.” His voice was a welcome diversion to the events of the night and she was happy he could come see her, “Thoughts?”

She gave him a tired smile, “It’s been a very long day.” The make up on her face was itchy but she tried her best not to scratch it.

“For everyone I’d imagine.” He added, “It’s almost over now.” She found comfort in his words as he lounged on the railing beside her.

His blue eyes studied her. She was beautiful.

The night was painted on her, her dark make up making her eyes shine out. They were like opals that reflected all the colors of the night.

“Come. Before the band stops playing.” He makes his way to the center of the balcony and bows to her. His open palm outstretched to her, “Dance with me.”

It was not a request, more of a statement. She felt her cheeks warm up, the rouge providing a good illusion. She dropped the mask on the railing, it's hollow eyes staring about both of them, gazing at their secret meeting. She slipped her hand into his, “I’d love to.”

He pulled her to him, his other hand settling on her hip as he guided her to the rhythm. One step, two step. She could replay Josie’s instructions in her mind, careful not to step on his booted feet. He looked quite poise, as if he was a regular in court.

“You look beautiful.” His words were a surprise and she was stunned for a moment. He chuckled at her reaction and spun her to get her back. Blue eyes glinted with a hidden motive.

He bent down to steal a kiss from her painted lips, warm and lidded with spice. She was dizzy with wine and his attention was something she had longed the entire night. His lips were greedy as he lavished her.

He broke free, eyes as dark as the night sky studying her drunken features.

“The night pales in comparison to you, _vhenan_.” His voice slid over her skin, promising of darker whispers in the late of night.


	4. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to get this since I was a little lost on inspiration.

She sat under the night sky, her nose buried in a book with a lantern hanging above it. She was trying so hard to map out the night sky. Gray eyes roved along the text, taking in as much of the shemlens’ writings into her mind. She should have listened to her Keeper back when she was a child but the sky was never this bright back then. She was always afraid of the night and the tale of the Dread Wolf always kept her in bed.

But now, now she was not so fearful. She was delighted ever since they solved their first astrarium. Who knew the stars could make shapes in their lives? She never considered them as shapes but they were; she was delighted.

She fumbled a bit on the grip on the lantern from time to time but she persisted and her eyes would dart back from the text to the skies above her. The moon shone on her, bathing her in soft moonlight but it was not enough.

She kept her gray gaze on the yellow pages filled with diagrams, pinning out the location of each star. She didn’t notice the footsteps behind her as her mind rolled the information over and over again. She did let out a gasp as the lantern was lifted from her hands and she found the amused face of Solas.

“ _Hahren_.” She spoke relieved, but confused at his action. He had taken the light she used to read.

“ _Vehnan_.” He replied, amusement in his tone. “Would you mind?” He had gestured beside her. It was an odd question; he already knew she wouldn’t mind.

She shook her head, a bit annoyed at the loss of the light. He sat himself and proceeded to close the book on her lap. She stared at him, letting him take the book from hers and placed it on the grass.

“Books are hardly any assistance for star reading. Additionally, Thoth is on the west.” He spoke casually, mirth in his tone. She felt herself flush in embarrassment. How had he known what she was looking at? Had he been standing behind her the entire time?

“You’re quite tricky, Solas.” She spoke, a little bit of her irritation seeping in those words. Oh how close she was to know he was linked to that word indeed. He smiled at her though a little hard on his eyes. Had she said something wrong?

“I mean no offense, da’len. I believed the Dalish have told of you the stories of the night sky.”

“I never listened to them passionately.”

“Ah, ever the rebel.” He spoke fondly and she couldn’t help the soft brushes in her stomach. His voice warm in the cold night sky.

“Well, you’re ever knowledgeable. Might you have some time to share your wisdom about the stars?” She spoke in a taunting tone. But she didn’t expect that he’d catch the bait.

“If you’d like.” 

And that night he told her the story of the stars, the lines that carved their image. And that night, she never worried she’d miss his voice.

………

Rain.

A harsh cascade of it falling down on her.

Any sane person would have scampered for shelter, cursing at the added weight the rain has caused but not Yvellna. She was delighted at the torrent, soaking her through her thick clothing and armor. She wasn’t fazed at way the mud climbed on her boots or the chills running down her spine. She loved rain.

Cole had joined her, his jerky actions showed how unsure he was but a wide smile on his pale face spoke volumes. She laughed with him under the rain; they were soaked to the bone. The seeker beside him let out an exasperated sigh and marched to both individuals, dragging them to the shelter of the slightly damp cave.

The light in the sky was leaving; it would be night soon.

“Inquisitor, you’ll catch the chills if you stay out any longer.” Cassandra’s concerned voice was loud against the rain. Yvellna sheepishly smiled at her and gave a weak apology. Not entirely sorry at her rapture.

Tents were propped along the area. Their soldiers will take a day before they can properly set the camp for Inquisition needs.

He silently summoned a fire that lit the wood, casting warmth around the camp. Cole disappeared some time ago while Cassandra shed her armor, clad in less damp clothing. The warrior hung the damp clothing on a rock, hoping the flames would dry the moisture out. She had proceeded to take some supplies from the other tent.

The Inquisitor? She was sitting in a half-open tent, wrapped in a thick cloth, her own share of clothing and armor being dried out around the flames. He could see she was shivering but she tried to still herself.

A silent sigh passed his lips and he made his way to her, ignoring the thoughts their companions might have. He hardly cared of their opinion lest he let her die.

Gray eyes looked up to him, her small form swathed in gray; shivering. He took her hands, cold, and blew on them. His breath was warm, soothing on her chilled skin. He rubbed his thumbs along her hands, noting the calluses and the small scars she’d gained from hunting.

“Thank you Solas.” Her voice was a soft whisper amidst clattering teeth. He proceeded to warm her hands with his, not replying her.

His blue eyes focused on her hands, Yvellna felt daring and stole a quick peck on his lips. Her lips were cold, he mused to himself. She pulled back, a sly smile on her features but he would not back down so easily.

He pressed his lips on hers, however his kiss was searing; shooting a delicious electric shock into her system. Had he used magic in that kiss? She couldn’t help but wonder. Those thoughts did not linger for they fled her mind as he kissed her deeper while wandering hands ignited her cold body.

His mouth left no skin untouched, warming her very flesh with his caresses. He lavished her lips until they felt hot under his attention.

And for that moment, he could steal her for a bit. He could claim her essence, washed pure by the rain.

Maybe he had been jealous at how she was free under the deluge, how it raked down her body in various rivulets. If only the rain could wash away his sins too.

……….

He made his way to the lake, hidden inside the cave. Crestwood was quite a far travel but he had something import to tell her. She shrugged the quiver off her shoulders and settled her crafted long bow beside it.

The stars were beautiful tonight and she remembered the stories he told her, his voice a soothing melody to her mind. His back was to her, his staff long settled by the cave entrance.  He reassured her that no wyverns would be dropping by on them any time soon, she believed him.

She rolled her shoulders, feeling the tension on them from the long travel they had from Skyhold. Her gray gaze roved along the misty terrain, the clear water reflected the moon on its still surface.

He watched the reflection, his back to her and she silently made her way beside him. She knew he noticed him but he made no acknowledgement. There was only companionable silence between them. He shifted his feet, nervous while she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, equally nervous.

He faced her, eyes muddled with decisions. What was he supposed to say? His clammy hands held hers but she hardly noticed, tension bubbling up inside of her. What did he have to say that he could not have said in Skyhold?

“I want to tell you… the truth.” He broke off, was he reconsidering his thoughts? It must be grave to have him stumble on his articulation. She couldn’t stop to chuckle at how endearing he was. His voice seemed uneasy, shaking. Was it tension? She began to wonder what he had in mind.

And soon the words poured out, every syllable worth remembering. Vallaslin. The soft curves and arches on her face, they were of a different origin. How they had been slave brandings. Hers was of Sylaise. Home, how she had always craved for one.

Would she let him undo it? Yes. She didn’t want to be bound. His hands glowed a soft white light, the magic laced to his fingers. He raised them waiting for her approval, waiting to be freed from the branding she had been familiar with.

With a nod, he ghosted his palms on her flesh. Warm foreign magic cleansing the markings on her face, unbinding her from her false beliefs. She held onto his clothes, knuckles white in their grip. She was scared; scared of the truth, of the new information, of how this will change tomorrow. Tonight, he was her lifeline; he was her safety.

No sooner did the warmth dissipate and she opened her eyes, she was still the same. She didn’t feel any different but his eyes, oh his eyes. They shone with a light she never saw them with. His arms settled upon her hips and she loosened her grip. Calloused fingers trailed to his hip, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered the words, as if a testament to her underneath the stars. His voice choked with so much emotion, was she truly beautiful. She smiled up at him, tears glistening in her eyes as her heart soared for him. Ah, she felt so warm.

He wrapped his arms around her small frame and hers snaked around him as well. His lips pressed upon hers, errant and hot. Hers was soft, receiving his attention with much fervor.

Tears trickled down her cheeks while his stayed behind his blue eyes. She cried of happiness, of freedom, of the home in his arms. He silently weep of his cowardice, of his lies, of one day losing the very salvation that he held in his arms.

The both had different eyes that night.

_Little did she know, he had kissed all the words he had left to say._


	5. Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending was probably the first thing I wrote to this set.

The glaring morning sunlight filtered in and bothered her. Despite her closed lids, her sight was bathed in red. Opening her eyes, Yvellna tried to adjust her vision. She was in her room, everything was the same.

She could feel a cold compress on her forehead while the heavy weight of blankets, piled on her to ward off the cold, was wearing her down. Her body felt like lead as she tried to move. She felt weak, was this a fever?

“Inquisitor?” It was Cullen’s deep voice, laced with concern.

“What happened, Cullen?” She spoke, her voice was hoarse and her throat hurt. She took the compress off her forehead and clumsily placed it on the bedside table. She tried to push herself up but fumbled.

Luckily the Templar was kind enough to help her sit up. The elf smiled in thanks while Cullen could only share a strained one. He handed her a glass of water and she drank it, relieved to feel her throat hurt less. He took the glass from her hands and settled it back on the bedside table.

“You passed out from exhaustion.” She could see the lines on his faces, she probably made him worry. Or everyone for that matter.

Yvellna’s face softened at the news and she let out a sigh. A headache was growing and she knew she wasn’t fit to get back on her feet any time soon.

“I’m sorry for worrying you Cullen. For everyone. Please,” she begged, the pain was eminent in her eyes, “Please tell everyone I’m all right.”

He seemed to think twice on her request but upon seeing the emotion in her eyes, he bowed and left the room.

Silence hung heavy in the air and Yvellna could feel the fresh tears trickling down her scarred cheeks. She lifted her hands and covered her eyes, shielding the world as she bathed her skin in more tears.

She remembered everything. From the moment her eyes first fell upon him, to each spell he voiced out. Even until the kisses he had laid on her lips. It was aggravating, these memories swarmed her. 

She replayed the night at Crestwood. He kissed her, he told her she was beautiful but he stepped back. He looked unsure, afraid. He promised he would tell her the truth but where was he? He was nowhere. Even their victory against Corypheus was not as joyous as she had expected.

Nights spent thinking too much, nights spent wondering where he was. 

_Yes, everything was just a dream._

He’s still gone.

And what scared her was maybe his absence now meant forever.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I was wondering on what to do to make a Solas x Lavellan fanfiction. Theblackdash and I had a lengthy talk on their relationship and I'd like to try my hand in making a story for a rebellious free-spirited ever curious closet pervert elvhen archer of an Inquisitor.


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